Post by Myranda on Jun 29, 2010 22:17:17 GMT -6
You would be stressed out, too, if you had just run away from home and enrolled yourself in a boarding school your parents know nothing about. Yeah, you would be the one sitting here at the pond all by yourself rethinking things. But, you're not, so try not to judge. Kind of difficult to do when you live in the most judging part of California to date.
Michael had his head in his hands as he sat on the bench by the secluded pond. He was second guessing himself- considering going home. He had forged his father's signature on the registration papers; he was a liar. And if there was one thing he hated most in the world, it was those shit-head liars. And now that he was one, he hated himself.
So much that it made him sick to his stomach. It made him physically sick to know that his friends would return to school tomorrow to finish their senior year, and he's be no where in sight. They's wonder why he hadn't returned their text messages, phone calls, facebook postings, myspace messages. It would take his father a week to realize his boy hadn't been home. He'd think at first Mike was just at a friend's house, but it would get weird after a while and the house would get quiet.
His dad's girlfriend would know immediately what was going on. She kept tabs on Michael like it's nobody's business. But, she wouldn't blow her cover by announcing it immediately. She would sure hate for his dad to find out that she was only still wih him to try to get some play off of his son. It nearly made Michael wretch to think that thought. That horrible, sick, deranged thought. That woman tried to make him a man before his time; and that made him hate her.
But when dad did find out that Mike was no longer home, he'd flip a lid. He'd swear that it was Michael's mother's fault- and then it would hit him. He'd have to decide how to tell that poor woman that her baby disappeared off of the face of the planet. But Mike new better. His dad was such a pussy; he'd fake letters to her and sign Mike's name on them. He'd even fake her phone calls. They did have a pretty similar voice.
His dad was just as big of a liar as he was. He had nothing to hate himself for. There were worst things he could be than a liar. He could be his dad's girlfriend. He could be his dad. But still, the question rang out in his mind like an old eightie's rock song. Should I stay or should I go?
Michael had his head in his hands as he sat on the bench by the secluded pond. He was second guessing himself- considering going home. He had forged his father's signature on the registration papers; he was a liar. And if there was one thing he hated most in the world, it was those shit-head liars. And now that he was one, he hated himself.
So much that it made him sick to his stomach. It made him physically sick to know that his friends would return to school tomorrow to finish their senior year, and he's be no where in sight. They's wonder why he hadn't returned their text messages, phone calls, facebook postings, myspace messages. It would take his father a week to realize his boy hadn't been home. He'd think at first Mike was just at a friend's house, but it would get weird after a while and the house would get quiet.
His dad's girlfriend would know immediately what was going on. She kept tabs on Michael like it's nobody's business. But, she wouldn't blow her cover by announcing it immediately. She would sure hate for his dad to find out that she was only still wih him to try to get some play off of his son. It nearly made Michael wretch to think that thought. That horrible, sick, deranged thought. That woman tried to make him a man before his time; and that made him hate her.
But when dad did find out that Mike was no longer home, he'd flip a lid. He'd swear that it was Michael's mother's fault- and then it would hit him. He'd have to decide how to tell that poor woman that her baby disappeared off of the face of the planet. But Mike new better. His dad was such a pussy; he'd fake letters to her and sign Mike's name on them. He'd even fake her phone calls. They did have a pretty similar voice.
His dad was just as big of a liar as he was. He had nothing to hate himself for. There were worst things he could be than a liar. He could be his dad's girlfriend. He could be his dad. But still, the question rang out in his mind like an old eightie's rock song. Should I stay or should I go?